


Give & Take Chs. 13 & 14

by kinfic2



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-15 21:47:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9258545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinfic2/pseuds/kinfic2
Summary: "I can feel it coming in the air tonight." P. Collins





	

**Author's Note:**

> Picks up from Ch.2 here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/7977280  
> Time Frame: early season 4 (after Brian starts Kinnetik)  
> Originally posted on my LJ in 2008

GIVE AND TAKE

                                                                                                                           Ch.13

                                                      (Continues from Ch.2; “Daph? I have to go. I'll call you tomorrow. Um, something’s come up.”) 

 

**Forgive them for they know not what they do.**

  
       Justin ended his conversation with Daphne and swallowed around the lump in his throat—but he couldn't get around the lump in his jeans. Turned on by Brian's attempt to dislodge his tonsils, he didn't know how to react. On the rare occasions when they were both at the loft in full possession of their faculties, they snipped and sniped at each other. He missed the intimacy of their sex, even though Brian would never equate fucking with intimacy.  
  
                          **_Intimacy - {into-me-see}_ : Exposing yourself, saying to another person, "I trust you. Look deeply into me, into who I am."**  
  
       He threw another sidelong glance at the bedroom. How long could they live like this before they reached the point of no return? He couldn’t let that happen, although a secret part of him, the part he told no one about, not even Warren, whispered to give up and move on. He buried the thought. They were going to get through this.  
  
_“I keep thinking that our problems soon are all gonna work out, but there’s that same unhappy feeling._  
                                     _There’s that anguish, there’s that doubt.It’s that same old dizzy hang up, can’t live with you or without.”_ _©Davis_  
  
“Do you plan on joining me?”  
  
       Startled by the edge in Brian’s words, an uncomfortable flare of something like guilt coiled in his stomach. He tightened his jaw. One stupid moment of bad judgment—okay, two. He didn't doubt that eventually he'd tell him what happened at Babylon. If he didn't, it would gnaw and fester and destroy both of them. He made a mental note to ask Warren why he felt the need to confess his sins, if voicing them would do more harm than good.  
  
       He trudged at a snail's pace, an undefined awareness coldly trickling down his spine, and paused at the steps. Frozen by Brian fondling his cock, he smiled in spite of his nerves. As if sculpted from the purest marble, the man was sheer beauty with a face and body that painters only dreamed of capturing. _Probably why I have sketch pads filled with his various body parts._ God, how he wanted him, how he needed the physical connection for reassurance that they'd make it.            
                                                                    _“I’m frightened and I’m lost. And I can’t give you up, not now."_ _©L.Buckingham_  
                                                                                                           * * *  
  
       The hesitation kicked Brian's 'Justin meter' in overdrive. Despite his show of catlike charm, conflict ate at his insides. That he wasn't singularly focused on thrusting his cock into the tight ass created havoc with his fragile psyche. Even worse, the nagging idea that he shouldered at least _some_ blame for their problems clung to him like a damp shirt on a sweltering day, and the irksome thoughts reinvented themselves as a slow burn, cheered on by an ill-timed agreement between his firmly entrenched habits. **  
**  
**Guilt triggers anger very easily because anger is a way of fighting guilt.** A.Hart   
  
_That's more like it!_ The freedom was liberating, a cathartic cleansing of unwanted and unfamiliar emotions thrown off in favor of the tried and true that he knew like the back of his hand.  
  
     “Come over here,” he ordered, mentally cursing the huskiness in his voice. Never removing his gaze from the face shadowed in uncertainty, he continued his calculated stroking and when Justin stopped a hair's breadth from the bed, he reached out with his free hand and massaged his chest. “You’re tense.” He brushed one nipple, then the other, and the heartbeat sped up under his palm. _Yes, just like that. I can feel you, Justin. I can feel how much you want this, how much you want me._  
  
       Justin frowned. “I’m fine. My day was for shit, though.”  
  
       This wasn't how things were supposed to go. Real life wasn't allowed to interfere tonight. Enough of this shit. “Justin...  
  
      “What?”  
  
      “Take your fucking clothes off and get into bed.”  
  
       With his lower lip tucked between his teeth, Justin unbuttoned his shirt and threw it on the floor. He did away with his jeans, then slowly removed his final piece of clothing.  
  
       _What the fuck? He’s acting shy? I knew there was no fucking way he wouldn’t be hard. Christ, I want to fuck him into the mattress._  
                                     
                                                                                                           * * *  
  
       Brian’s feral look reminded Justin of a panther about to devour his prey and fuck if that didn’t make his dick ache.  
  
      “Like what you see, Sunshine?”  
  
      “Uh, you know I do. That’s part of the problem.” His eyes darted from the hungry expression to the erotic display as he climbed into bed.  
  
      “Oh? And what problem is that?” Brian latched onto his arm and pulled him close so they were on their sides, facing each other.  
  
       He would have answered but the heady feeling of skin against skin drove away coherent thought. God, he wanted that body so fucking much, wanted the warm flesh and sinewy muscle to cover and claim him, wanted it inside him. He squeezed his eyes shut. Damn, he had to concentrate or he'd shoot like a randy teenager, and he didn't need to give Brian more ammunition to bitch about their ages.  
  
                                                                                                            * * *  
  
       By design and not coincidence, Brian’s predatory instinct reared. Taking advantage of Justin’s distracted arousal, he flipped him on his back and shoved his hands into the blond hair. He sketched the plump lips with the tip of his tongue, painting them with wetness until they glistened with his spit. They parted, as he knew they would, and he plunged inside, mapping it like an explorer. He only pulled back when the need to breathe became a necessity. He wrestled with his own desire at the firm, rounded muscles splayed beneath him, at the ivory skin tinted with splashes of crimson lust. Fuck! When did he lose so much control over his dick, over his fucking life?  
  
      “Justin, open your eyes.”  
  
       The naked emotion blew him away. Everything _Justin_ was on the surface. But how much of his blue-eyed goodness and strength had been tainted by jaundiced hazel that had seen too much and felt too little?  
  
      “Keep them open. I want to see you when you come.”  
  
       _He looks like a fucking debauched angel._ The sight was almost enough to numb the insidious pain that had been spreading through his body since that night at Babylon—almost.

                                                                                                            Ch.14

 **You feel as if change is your enemy so you tenaciously cling to the past. At worst, you hug the present. Both are familiar, like an old shoe and a well-worn blanket and you wear them well. But old shoes eventually lose their soles and tattered blankets fall apart over time. One day, you realize the past is drifting farther away and the present is slipping from your grasp, and you know your entire life has been leading up to this moment of choice—to wither in the past, to stagnate in the present, or to live for the future. It's all up to you.** _©Kin_

        Justin shivered as the heat blazed through his body and inflamed his cock. Breathing deeply through his nose was the only alternative to passing out until Brian finally decided to break the kiss. Dizzy and light-headed in the netherworld of anticipation and arousal, he greedily inhaled tiny puffs of air.  
  
_“There is a place between the sun and the moon, a fine line between love and illusion,_  
_In the silence between whisper and shout, the space between wonder and doubt.”_ _©Peart,Dubois,Lee,Lifeson_  
  
        He was desperate but he wouldn’t beg. Besides, it never worked. Brian got off on it. Begging intensified his deviousness, motivating him to prolong and heighten the torment. He worried his lower lip. The evening had become surreal, like it was happening but it wasn’t supposed to be happening.  
                                                                                                           * * *

        Brian stared at him with an emptiness in his chest. He wanted to tell him that he would find the happiness he deserved because he was good and kind and the best man he ever met, but the pain of seeing him at Babylon with someone else had stained his heart with an inkblot of misery so black, he couldn't get the words out. They were buried deep inside, entombed in his bricks of self-defense.  
  
        Only one other time did he feel so dangerous, so out of control—that awful night at the loft when he finally accepted what he had been trying to deny and wordlessly told Justin that he fucking knew about the fiddler, when he _showed_ him that he knew. He stripped his soul to show him with every brutal kiss how hurt he was, to tell him with every stab of his tongue how angry he was. He tried to make him understand what he would be missing in his pie-in-the-sky quest for love and romance. But he left anyway, just as he knew he would. It didn't matter that he came back. What mattered was that he left in the first place.  
  
                                                      _“And in the end, the love you take, is equal to the love you make.”_ _©Lennon/McCartney_  
  
        Ironically, Justin's admission of guilt drove the final nail into their coffin. _Brian, I'm sorry. I should have told you about him._ A hysterical snicker had bubbled in his throat at the absurd paradox—an honest confession of betrayal, and he didn't know whether he wanted to laugh or cry.  
  
       He gritted his teeth at the memory and brushed the stubble on the flushed cheek with the back of his hand. Oddly comforted, the touch transported him to an idyllic place where he could be different, where he could be the person Justin wanted him to be.  
  
                                                     _ “Every now and then I know I’ll never be the man you always wanted me to be.” ©B.Tyler_  
  
      “Brian?”  
  
       Like a bucket of ice water, the concerned voice reawakened his inner demons:

 

 

"You're not giving in, are you, Brian?" the sly inner voice asked. "You've been down this road before with him or have you conveniently forgotten?"

** "No, I haven't forgotten." **

 

"Then why aren't you ignoring the need in his eyes, the make-believe concern on his face?"

** "It's NOT make-believe! He cares! Justin cares!"**

 

"Yeah, right. Keep telling yourself that. When did you become such a pussy, Brian? Thinking that blondie would want to stay with you, thinking that _anyone_ would want to stay with you? We're disappointed. We taught you better. How many more 'wishes that never come true' do you have to suffer through? How much more fucking HURT do you have to go through because of him?"

** "I've hurt him, too. That's why he did some of the things he did, because of me!" **

 

"Don't be fooled. Take a good look at him. He's a user, just like you!"

** "He is not! He's not like me at all!" **

 

"Don't kid yourself. When he gets tired of you—and he will—because you're too old and can't keep up with him or because he needs his lezzy fix of romance shit, he'll throw you away like yesterday's newspaper. It's exactly something you would do. What was the phrase you made up years ago? 'Use 'em and lose 'em Kinney'? Well, he's following in your footsteps. You taught him well. You should be proud.

** "That's not Justin!"**

 

"Then what was that little scene at Babylon, the one that has you so hot and bothered, the one that makes you lose control thinking about it? Just a figment of our imagination?"

** "No, I..."  **

 

"You _know_ why it's gotten to you, why it's eating at you. We'll tell you once more so you don't forget, so you don't lose focus."

** "No!"  **

 

"Oh, yes, Brian! All of us in your warped mind agree that you're losing your resolve and falling under his spell yet again. You need to be reminded of your anger and pain."

** "You don't have to remind me how I feel. I fucking know!" **

 

"Do you? Do you really? The reason you're in such a snit is—"

** "Stop!" **

 

"—is because you _saw_ him getting jacked off in the backroom when, thanks to you, he was so fucking high he could barely stand, because you _saw_ how eagerly he and his cock responded to Mr. Hotstuff, Mr. _Young_ Hotstuff. Your pussyself secretly hoped that _JT_ would come to his senses, push the big bad wolf away and find _RAGE_ to save him. Because as much as you want someone who knows his own mind, who's capable of taking care of himself, you also need to be in control. You need to be able to control people and situations and you couldn't control that one, could you Brian?"

** "No, no, I couldn't." **

 

"And up until that night, things were pretty much okay between the two of you, other than the shit hours and pressure with Kinnetik."

** "Yes."**

 

"You hadn't tricked. You didn't have the time or—let's call a spade a spade—the energy. And you were sure Justin hadn't either. He only did it with you. It was never his style."

** "Yes."  **

 

"So you allowed yourself the ultimate indulgence, wondering what it would be like, how it would feel to do it—"

** "No! I never thought we could be..." **

 

"Can't even say the dreaded 'M' word, Brian? Just as well. It's like that _other_ dreaded word. You know, the ' _L'_ one? Face it, they're for other people, not for you. You'd only fuck everything up. You _do_ know that, right? _Right_?"

** "Yeah. I've always known it. I _still_ know it!"**

 

"All you could do was stand in the shadows like a jilted lover and watch him come at someone else's hands, watch him open his mouth. Made you angry, didn't it?"

** "God, yes."**

 

"It hurt, didn't it?"

** "You fucking know it did." **

 

"But that didn't come close to how you felt when you saw them again, walking to the backroom _together_ —for a second time—to _fuck!_ You could see the lust on Justin's face in your mind, hear his sex-filled voice in your ears, and feel his body tremble with his orgasm."

** "Fucking stop!"**

 

"But it wasn't with you, was it?"

** "Shut the fuck up!" **

 

"It was with that hot, _young_ —"

**_ "What the fuck did he think he was doing? _ Stupid little shit! Did he think I wouldn't find out or didn't he give a shit? I thought things would be different this time. His stupid fucking rules! I should have known. Is that what he's going to do, fuck around, while I'm working my ass off?**

 

"Well, that's a little harsh."

** "No, it's fucking not! He wants to fuck around? Let him! Let him try and find someone who can fuck him the way I can, who can make him scream, who knows every fucking inch of him, inside and out! Just let him try, just let him—" **

            _“And I know just where to touch you and I know just what to prove.I know when to pull you closer and I know when to cut you loose._  
            _I know just how to fake it and I know just how to scheme. I know when it's time to face the truth and I know when not to dream._ ” _©Hitchcock/Russell_

                                                                                                        * * *

         Justin didn't miss the lack of focus. He had the strange sensation that even the simple act of breathing would spook him. “Hey, where'd you go?”  
  
        “I'm fine. Fine.” Brian gave a vigorous shake of his head. “Now, where were we? I think we can find something more productive for those lips, don't you?”  
  
         His brows furrowed under his blond fringe at the clipped tone. Again an odd feeling lapped at his senses, a fleeting ebb and flow of an undefined impression. He shuddered at the fire in the hazel eyes and opened his mouth to speak, uncertain whether to agree or disagree. But the decision was made for him when Brian brushed his lips over his mouth, then deepened the kiss with a fiendish tongue.  
  
         With the muscular body pressed against him and the scent of cologne filling his nostrils, he melted into the mattress. “Don't...don't you think it'd be better with your dick inside?” he rasped.  
  
        “Oh, don't worry. We'll get there. I thought you liked to play. You're so fucking hot, so needy for my cock, aren't you? _Aren't you_?”  
  
         Without a rational thought in his brain, all he could do was nod that yes, he most definitely needed his cock.

  
                          _“Your smell_ _is incense burning. Your touch is silken yet it reaches through my skin and moves me from within.”_ _©The Corrs_

                                                                                                      * * *      

           An undercurrent of gloating pleasure rushed through Brian's veins as the dilated eyes faded in and out of awareness. “I know how much you love cock, but do you love just mine or will any dick do?” When he didn't receive an answer, he nipped his earlobe. “Justin!”  
  
          “Wha...What?”         

          “You didn't answer my question, but that's okay. I already know. You like _all_ cock.” He smirked and continued his rocking motion.  
  
          “Brian, stop. Stop! I'm going to—”  
  
           He grabbed the base of Justin's shaft with one hand and pulled on his sac with the other, staving off his orgasm. Tonight would be on _his_ terms.  
  
           Justin's breath hissed through his teeth. “Fuck!”  
  
          “Hang on. I want you to come with me in your ass, filling you and stretching you. You'd like that, wouldn't you, Sunshine?”  
  
           The frustrated moan fed his inner beast. He rose up on his haunches and stroked Justin's chest with feathery touches. Unable to resist the dusky nipples, he pressed a needy palm on each one and rubbed the nubs with erotic circles. After encouraging them to hardness, he pinched each peak, and Justin scrabbled to pull his hands away from the tender bumps.  
  
          “I seem to be having trouble getting your attention this evening. Wonder why that is?”  
  
           Justin squirmed on the bed. “God, you're killing me!”  
  
          “I'm killing you with pleasure.”  
  
          “Yeah, well can you please kill me with pleasure before I die of frustration?”  
  
           He brushed damp strands of hair from the flushed skin and captured his mouth, never letting up, never allowing him to surface from his mindless blur of arousal. The throbbing hardness beneath him matched his own. It was time.  
  
           Spellbound by the hunger etched on Justin's face, he reached for a condom and slicked his erection. He started to lube his fingers but Justin stilled his hand. “Just squeeze some on me, but go slow, okay?”  
  
          “Like the first time?” An unbidden grin escaped at the kaleidoscope of memories. Fuck! No way. He had to stay strong. But his gut twisted at the yearning in the blue eyes. It had been so fucking long since he saw that look. “Remember, this is how _you_ want it. You want the stretch and burn? That's what you'll get. There's a thin line between pain and pleasure, right?”  
  
           He expertly positioned his cock in front of the puckered opening, and his heartbeat tripped over itself at the sight—so eager, so needy. For an infinitesimal moment, he hesitated, holding himself still in the dimly lit bedroom. But his voices cheered him on with unrestrained glee, and he was powerless to silence them.

 

"Remember, Brian! Remember your pain, your anger. He betrayed you. He broke his own rules. He made a fool of you and now you're letting him make a pussy out of you! Don't do it! Don't give in. It'll keep happening over and over, and you'll keep getting hurt again and again. Is that what you want, Brian? You want to be hurt? Do you _like_ being hurt? Are you that much of a masochist? We thought you learned your lesson years ago with Jack and Joan and Clare and every other member of Satan's family. Do you really needa crash course in survival of the fittest?"

           He hovered on the brink, then nudged into the winking hole. Justin's gasp sent shock waves to his dick, and he had to force himself to go slow. He inched forward at a measured pace, the tight heat testing every bit of resolve to make this last. But he would. He was determined to keep him desperate until _he_ was ready to let him fall.  
  
           After what seemed to be an interminable length of time, he stopped, shocked that he couldn't go farther. His control wavered as the narrow channel pulsed to hold him captive. By chance circumstance or conscious choice, they were each other's prisoner. The reason wasn't important—the answer was.  
  
           He withdrew in a torturous slide, then slammed back in to the hilt. The ruthless thrust took his breath away and gave rise to a loud and feral growl from Justin, now folded in half, almost ass over backwards. His insides smiled as strident moans and discordant gasps echoed through the loft—and his body.  _Like a private fucking symphony just for me_. A particularly accurate plunge stabbed Justin's prostate with such force that he arched off the bed and bucked against his shoulders with the backs of his knees.  
  
          Almost there. One look, one jab, one word. It wouldn't take much. He sped up—deeper, harder, wilder. When anal muscles clamped down around him, he exploded a purposeful depth-charge in Justin's ear. “Was it as good as your fuck at Babylon, Sunshine?”  
  
                                                                                                           * * *  
  
          And that question pushed Justin over the edge. He stared into hazel supernovas and erupted with a strangled shout of surprise. Sucked into a white-hot vortex, he cried...and came...and cried.  
  
                                                         _“Somehow I had to make you pay. No one makes a fool of me_  
_                                                                   Without receiving retribution. No one hurts me and goes free.” ©King,Baca,Wallace_

CONTINUED HERE: <https://archiveofourown.org/works/9482930>


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